


Rebellious

by ToxicBabes



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Alcohol, Drug Use, Hand Jobs, M/M, Marijuana
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-18 19:35:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16523330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToxicBabes/pseuds/ToxicBabes
Summary: Lion finds himself experimenting.





	Rebellious

**Author's Note:**

> i don't even know if this pairing is a thing but i wrote this short piece of work and decided to throw it onto here in case anyone likes it. your boy lion blazes it and jerks his buddy off pretty much.

Operation Pub Crawl, a high-stakes mission involving the most elite and skilled. Like a mother duck herding ducklings, Thatcher led them to the best pints in Hereford and treated them all to a round. Bandit settled himself down and sipped at his dark porter, savouring the flavour as he propped his head up on his hand. Next to him he could hear the quiet conversation between Lion and Montagne, unintelligible to him as it was in French yet it was interesting to listen in. Lion was an intriguing fellow, someone Bandit never got much interaction with but strangely wanted to. He found amusement in him after watching how he managed to provoke Thatcher into punching him square in the jaw. That was no easy feat.

Eventually Montagne had wandered off, whether to chat up a girl or speak with his other colleagues, but it left only the two of them drinking alone at the bar. Bandit stole a glance at him, catching his gaze as he did and be shot him a curious grin. 

“What?” Lion quipped back as he narrowed his eyes, a small smile appearing upon his lips too. “Something on my face?” 

Bandit shook his head and averted his gaze. “From what I’ve heard about you, the pub is the last place I’d be expecting to see you in. That’s all,” he said and slugged down the last few droplets from his glass. He waved down the bartender but motioned for two, one for Lion as well. 

The bartender served them quickly before running back to tend to a needy Smoke who was demanding more shots. Lion’s fingers curled around the cool glass and he looked down at the sparking foam for a couple seconds before taking a long sip. He wiped his finger over his upper lip. “Thanks,” he murmured, seeming to enjoy the malty taste. “Gilles and Julien suggested I come. Something about socialising…” he let out a wry chuckle and gazed across the bar at everyone else.

Bandit hummed. “Yeah, most of us just stay in our little bubbles,” he murmured then shrugged. “Well, you’re talking to me. That’s a start, I guess.”

The night dwindled on, some left, some remained drinking. They remained sitting at the bar, a foot apart and hunched over their drinks, buying each other rounds under the guise to keep it fair  _ because you bought me one last round so I should treat you for the next _ . From porter to stouts, whiskey and rum, Bandit had a wide range of tastes and eventually Lion admitted he hadn’t drank like this in years. His flushed cheeks suggested as well. 

As they sipped away, they shared stories of their youth and quickly found that the both of them were troublemakers in their past. Bandit? Still somewhat, he enjoyed his usual antics at base. Lion on the other hand had settled down and was now a church-going man, devoted to God and his job as presumed from his constant schedule of arriving religiously on time for work and never failing to attend Mass on Sunday.

“I was such a piece of shit back then,” Lion muttered with a smile as he reminisced of his past where running from the police for breaking windows and intruding on property was the thrill of the weekend, or sneaking out of the house at midnight to hang out with friends and drink cheap wine. “If I could go back in time, I’d kick my ass.”

“Everyone dicks around when they were younger. Nothing wrong with that,” Bandit said and knocked back the rest of his whisky. His head was spinning pleasantly, his thoughts grew mellow and he craved the softness of his bed. Thankfully the bar was nearing its closing time and the bartender had began to kick out the rowdier patrons before fights could break out. The two of them stepped out into the cool night, hands stuffed into pockets. Bandit found himself blurting the first thought that came into his head. “Crash at my place?” 

Lion chuckled as he stumbled alongside him. “I’d be glad to. I don’t think I even have money for a taxi,” he said and held onto a lamppost for leverage, his words were slurred and his French accent only grew thicker. “I can barely walk.”

Bandit didn’t hesitate to put an arm around his waist. “You ‘n me, man.” He shot him a grin. “Don’t worry, it’s only a couple minutes away.”

Halfway there, Lion had came to a complete halt, his hand gripping Bandit’s shoulder for support as he keeled over and hurled everything he drank back up. He felt a strange mixture of pure awfulness yet comfort as the stirring in his gut settled and the sound of Bandit’s infectious laughter had invaded the silence of the street. Managing to compose himself, they made the final stretch to Bandit’s apartment and wasted no time getting inside to lounge all over his sofa.

It was small yet homely, slightly cluttered and characteristic of a bachelor’s pad. Bandit had of course apologised for the mess and went digging through his fridge for beer. After having slipped his shoes off by the door, Lion approached the living room and found himself cocking a brow when he spotted a bong sitting on the coffee table next to a small bag of weed. 

“You’ve found the contraband,” Bandit said as he passed him a cool beer, clicking his tongue. He sank down next to him on the squishy sofa and gave him a half-lidded look. “Help yourself, I don’t mind. As Ryad would probably say, mi casa… tu casa.”

“It’s mi casa es tu casa,” Lion corrected him.

“Same thing.” Bandit began to pack the weed into the bowl and reached for his lighter. He caught Lion’s eyes watching him as he took a rip, eyes closing in pleasant relaxation and still found his gaze moments later. “Listen,” he began. “I don’t know what your stance is on this but don’t feel pressured. As you can tell I’m a terrible influence.”

Although Lion only laughed. “Yeah you are,” he agreed and motioned for him to hand over the bong. Without even hesitating he took a rip and coughed harshly as he expelled the smoke from his lungs. It reminded him of his teenage years, from the act of flicking open the lighter to inhaling the curling smoke. It was exhilarating, after all, it was technically illegal. He took another then rested against the sofa, palming his cold beer in one hand as he brought his gaze to the commercial on the television. “I haven’t done anything like this in forever. It feels so weird… wait,” he paused and furrowed his brows. “Will Gustave know about this?”

Bandit shrugged and reached for the bag of crisps on the coffee table. “He knows about me, he’ll eventually find out with you,” he said then looked over at him with a smirk. “Afraid of being a bad boy?” 

“I dunno, maybe,” Lion admitted sheepishly and helped himself to a crisp.

“It’s just a little weed, it’s not like we’re shooting up,” Bandit reminded him.

Over a couple snacks, laughing over comedy shows and getting high, he found himself to enjoy the Frenchman’s company. Despite being drunk and incredibly relaxed it became apparent that neither of them were going to sleep any time soon and Bandit found himself feeling frisky, his hands were itching to do something. He stole a glance at Lion then reached for his beer and took a swig, sat back against the sofa and rested his hand on Lion’s thigh. It wasn’t smooth whatsoever, in fact, the most obvious thing in the world but Bandit was never one for beating around the bush.

Lion stiffened under his touch but didn’t move away. His eyes drifted down to Bandit’s hand that lingered against the denim, his thumb that toyed at the seam running along his inner thigh and it remained planted there, unmoving. Bandit waited patiently, wondering when he was going to address it or whether he should make more moves. 

“What are you playing at, Dom?” Lion asked with a nervous chuckle though he didn’t seem hostile about it whatsoever, he wasn’t averse to his hand sliding a few inches higher. 

Bandit shrugged. “Just messing around, that’s all… want me to stop?” He asked as a suggestive grin grew on his face and he found himself shifting closer. His eyes darted down to Lion’s lips, watching as they twitched momentarily but no response came. Lion too seemed to be slowly gravitating towards Bandit, so he wasted no time and closed the gap between them. Of all the adjectives Bandit could think of, he would describe Lion’s lips as  _ satisfying.  _ As weird as it was, he loved the shape of them, the perfect curve of his Cupid’s bow to how the corners would flick upwards into that gorgeous grin of his, and the feeling of them moving so firm and wantonly against his.  _ Thank God.  _

Lion brought his hand to palm his cheek, fingers caressing his thick beard then he chuckled against him, almost giggling. Confused, Bandit pulled away and gave him an inquisitive look. “What’s so funny?” He asked.

“Your beard feels so strange,” he murmured back, fingers still touching, feeling. “I’ve never kissed a guy before.”

Bandit’s lips curved into a lazy smirk and his fingers curled into the waistband of Lion’s jeans, settling there to tease him some more. “I think you enjoy it,” he said and drank in the sight of Lion’s cheeks deepening in colour, how he looked all flustered on his couch with his thighs spreading a little wider as Bandit wedged his hand between his legs. “I’ll take good care of you.”

Lion responded with a soft hum of approval and his own hands moved to ease off Bandit’s jacket. In deep concentration he unbuckled his belt as well, biting his lips as he felt Bandit’s hands pry off his jeans until they pooled around his ankles. A quiet ‘ _ oh!’ _ managed to slip from his lips when he felt Bandit’s fingers curling around his erection and his own hands had stopped trying to get into Bandit’s jeans. He looked down on himself, entranced by the sight of Bandit’s finger tracing the tip of this cock through his blue briefs. 

A thought passed as he eyed Bandit’s bulge through the thick denim. “Is it true that you have a dick piercing?” Lion blurted out his question, cheeks burning with curiosity and his body grew hotter when a laugh tore from Bandit’s throat. “I overheard Julien gossipping.”

“I suppose you’ll find out, but spoiler alert, I don’t,” Bandit answered for him then undone his own jeans and settled down next to him, shifting closer so their sides were touching. Lion reached over to run his hand over the patterned fabric of his boxers, completely engrossed by the erotic idea of jacking him off. “Is this your exploratory phase, Olivier? You seem to be coming out of your shell.”

A smile broke his serious expression and Lion looked up at him. “Maybe,” came his embarrassed mumble but his hand continued to creep under the waistband of Bandit’s boxers, the tips of his fingers brushing over his trimmed pubic hair. Bandit let out a pleasured sigh and closed his eyes, allowing his hands to explore Lion’s body as he relaxed. Lion began to pump his cock, stroking with a firm grip. When Bandit looked back at him he met his blue eyes, his watchful gaze that gauged his expression.  _ Gorgeous,  _ he thought to himself and leaned in to kiss him. 

As their hands jerked and stroked each other, their kiss grew more heated. For a guy who had supposedly not dated for years and didn’t seem to be the one for hooking up, Lion was an amazing kisser and Bandit found himself tamed by his tongue. Though characteristic of how Bandit typically kissed in return, their kiss was messy, wet with spit and aggressive, noses bumping to teeth clashing. Between every pause for a trembling breath he could sense Lion getting close from the precum secreted from the tip of his cock, the way it made Bandit’s grip sleek and slippery, and how his hips twitched desperately to fuck his fist. It didn’t take long for him to become like this.

To prevent him from coming too fast Bandit stopped stroking him and let his hand run over the skin of his inner thigh, feeling the soft hairs then moving up to massage his abs. He smiled at how Lion whined, enjoying the wonderful noises that came from him. 

Their arms criss-crossed over one another, occasionally bumping as they adjusted their grip. Lion thumbed the tip of Bandit’s leaking erection where it was most sensitive, catching how his brows furrowed in pleasure. The lewd  _ schlip  _ and  _ squelch _ of every upward stroke only aroused him more, he was aching for release at this point and any light contact against his erection would give him that bliss. 

As cruel as it seemed Bandit avoided touching him until he felt his own orgasm nearing. When he did, he reached for Lion’s cock and stroked him fast and firm, electrified by his sudden loud moans. It brought him a rush when he saw the thick ropes of white cum spilling over the cotton of Lion’s shirt, leaving a nasty stain on the navy. He managed to land some of it into his shoulder, the rest trickling down his torso. Soon enough Bandit came as well with a reserved groan, catching most of his release into his own hand before it could ruin his couch.

In the aftermath they caught their breaths, sighing contentedly with each exhale. Lion reached for a tissue and grimaced as he tried to clean himself up. He pulled his underwear and jeans back up, tucking everything back as it was and in no time he was back to looking like his usual well-dressed self, with the exception of the cum stains on his dress-shirt. 

Bandit smirked at him as he tugged up his own zipper. He studied his destruction, the glorious sight of Lion’s shirt, his messed up hair, flushed cheeks… reddened eyes. It was a drastic difference to his day-to-day appearance of his brushed back hairstyle that remained immaculate throughout training and the gym. Now his fly was still down, buttons undone on his shirt and he was taking another rip from the bong. He was so perfect. Bandit relished in the idea of dismantling that disciplined demeanour of his once more.


End file.
